


Grit, Grinding and a Glass Eye

by anna_43



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Aged Characters, Anger Management, Anxiety Disorder, Blood and Gore, Boy x boy, Dark Humor, Different Plot, Drinking, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemy Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fluff Smut and Kink, Gay, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kill Me I Live On Energy Drinks, M/M, Mafia Based AU, Multi, Romance, Sally Face - Freeform, Slow Burn, Slurs, There is Happiness in Here I Swear, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-10-04 21:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17312147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_43/pseuds/anna_43
Summary: There was nothing he could do, so Sal just growled under his breath and leaned back.  Sal closed his blue eyes and tried to imagine that man’s face when he saw the carnage.  That malicious douche bag that led Sanity Falls and claimed to be the best gang leader in all America. Sal fantasized about hot angry tears streaming down Larry Johnson’s face as he punched some rubble out of rage.Fucking hell, that made Sal smile underneath his prosthetic.





	1. Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for clicking on my story and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> I don't bite and a little feedback is always appreciated! byby!

 Smoke.

Smoke thicker than the devil’s breath blocked out the morning sunlight.  Firefighters fought the fire lapping up what was left of the warehouse frames.  A grin spread across Sal’s face. The burns covering his arms and legs didn’t matter anymore, not after seeing the results of his handiwork.  Who knew a pier could go up in flames so quickly with a little help from scrappy, homemade explosives? Three husks once filled with cocaine, stolen tech, and a couple dozen cars, just looked like pathetic mess of ash.  Oh, and the precious yacht that Sanity Falls’ leader liked to boast about on Instagram? At least it was still floating.

Any arsonist would be proud.

“Sally, yo, we got to go, man,” Chug said, tapping Sal on the shoulder.

“More cops?”

“The tech guy, Gidigen, overheard them calling in investigators,” Chug said, fanning himself with his sweaty T-shirt.  “Come on, Sal, we got enough product to sell for the rest of the year.”

At this, Sal laughed and turned to look up at the man.  Green curls clung to Chug’s face and neck fat. Sal couldn’t blame the man for his heaving state.  The heat was insane down at the dock and even here on the bank there was a definite lack of breeze.

“Rest of the year, huh?” Sal jogged towards a black SUV parked not 10 feet away.  “That sounds like quitter talk, I have a couple ide-”

“God Sal, let’s wrap up this stunt before we talk about the next plan.”

Sal laughed, leaping into the already open SUV on the side of the road.  Rolling in after him came Chug, who plopped down in a seat and let out a half-sigh and half-victory whoop. The driver, a tacky looking man with plastic gold chains, a fake spray tan, and a “Money” tattoo on his neck, hit the gas as soon as his bosses were in the car.

Oh god, Sal forgot all about the burns.  It occurred to Sal that he was sitting still in an air-conditioned car in the dead of a November night and he was hot.

There was nothing he could do, so Sal just growled under his breath and leaned back.  Sal closed his blue eyes and tried to imagine that man’s face when he saw the carnage.  That malicious douche bag that led Sanity Falls and claimed to be the best gang leader in all America. Sal fantasized about hot angry tears streaming down Larry Johnson’s face as he punched some rubble out of rage.

Fucking hell, that made Sal smile underneath his prosthetic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No joke, Larry was fuming.  Cops don’t exactly hurry out of a crime scene so it was noon before Larry could even step foot outside his house, much less the pier.  When a phone call at the witching hours of the night woke him, Johnson was tempted to chuck the phone through his open window. However, Caller ID said it was his right hand man, Todd and Todd was no nonsense. Something was up if Todd dared to call his employer in the dead of night.

Something was up indeed.  Forty-three percent of Larry’s income set on fire.

“I’m gonna fucking kill that motherfucking freak and shove his baby-doll ass looking mask right through hIs GoDDa-AmNED RiB-BCA-AGE!”

Pride fanned the furry in his stomach and the desperation racing through his veins.  A scream poured out of Larry’s chest, a goosebumps-inducing sound that even his men felt unnerved by.  The frustrated male's conscious floated for a second. Great, now his vocal cords hurt. Without a word, Larry picked up a charred piece of rubble and threw it at a wall.  Watching the pieces of blackened wood scatter seemed to calm the 28-year-old.

“How bad is the damage?” Larry asked in a level tone.

“Bad, Lars.”

“I said how bad, give me numbers, Todd,” Larry lit a cigarette and drew in a long breath,”give me estimates, anything.”

“You good, man?” Todd questioned with a bit of concern.  Blackouts were unpredictable and violent, especially Larry's.  There were more than a dozen stories that described something the boss had done in a rage.  Usually, it was talk of black eyes and hard-hitting insults, but Todd knew better. He knew that when Larry blacked out he was no longer himself; anything was on the table.

“I’m fine, all here, dude,” Larry answered, not having the will to even smile in reassurance.

“In that case, wanna walk, look around and I can give you a couple figures.”  Todd led the way as the two men began to stroll. “All that’s left of the actual buildings is… rubble.”

“Goddammit."

Todd stopped and looked back at Larry, a slight furrow in his brow.

He was a muscle machine, strong as an ox and standing at 6’6” he could topple over men twice his height.  His chocolate eyes had dark circles under them, but they darted everywhere at once. Atop Larry’s head was a sloppy, thick ball of brown hair that leaned to one side.  Five o’clock shadow framed his jawline and added to his tired, smug look. On top of the intimidating look, he was headstrong, prideful and calculating. The perfect gang leader.

 _And a bit of a heartfelt hunk_ , Todd thought, _but with way too much baggage…._

“Warehouses are rubble, like I said, but the offices are intact.  Oh the downside, tons of our paperwork is missing. Clients, buyers, sellers and car registrations and alike all missing.” Todd began, seeing Larry look at him expectantly.  “The first warehouse looked like it got ransacked before the cops came. The second had all the cars intact, but the police snatched most of the merchandise. The cars they left, we can only sell to wreckers and the black market now that we don’t ha-”

“Dude,” Larry interrupted, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder,”How much money did this lose the gang?”

“Boss, we lost over ten months worth of decent sales.  If our sales kept up an average pace and pricing for that period…. I calculate we lost around two-million….”

Todd didn’t know he could hold his breath for so long, but as Larry stared deep into Todd’s hazel eyes he didn’t dare blink.  There were few things that put Larry on edge, but the Sally Face Gang put him right on a tightrope. Larry couldn’t ever seem to get fully rid of the fucker and his gang.  They always got one step ahead whenever it mattered and boy, did that grate on Larry’s temper.

“Two-million…” Larry faded off, raising his intense gaze to the ocean.  He puffed away the last of his cigarette and immediately lit a second one. The number two-million swirled around in his head. That would have been enough money to outfit his men for moving Sanity Falls territory further north against oriental gangs.  All the possibilities about what could have been and what he needed to do was whirling around in Larry’s head.

Then his phone rang.

_Unknown Number._

With the mood he was in, Larry did not want to deal with a wrong number right now.  His innocent civilian voice was long gone at this point, but something nagged at him.  A little voice began to whisper at him from the bottom of his wrenching gut.

_Answer it, answer it, answer it, answer it, answer it, ans-_

“What’s up?”

Silence paired with static.

“Hello?  Fucking hi?” Larry grunted, annoyed with his own primal curiosity. He began to pull the phone from his ear, but Larry heard a whisper.  “What did you say?”

“I said is this Larry Johnson?”

“No, who’s asking?” Larry said, .

Static roared out of his phone, but whenever the voice came through the static quieted.  Larry knew what that meant, burn phone.

“I’m not asking, I’m confirming, because if you are Larry Johnson then I have information you want.”  The voice drawled at the end, as if teasing.

Larry took a second and deep drag of nicotine.

“Well, shoot than,” Larry said, hoping he wouldn’t have to smash his phone in the next few seconds. ”cause this is Larry Johnson.”

“Heya, Johnson.  Do you like the redecorating I did?”

Speechless, Larry’s grip on his phone tightened and his cigarette disappeared in a single intake.  Before Sally Face could talk anymore, Larry called for Todd and put Sally on speaker. A finger rested over Larry’s lips as Todd approached who nodded.

“Loss for words?  I was hoping for more begging about your drugs and cars and all those other shiny looking things I found.” Sally giggled femininely,”You wouldn’t look like shit if you were begging on your kne-"

“Hey, fag-face, did you call to gloat or do you want to fucking negotiate?” Larry spat.

“I don’t know,” Sally almost sang the words,”maybe we could make a deal if you bent ov-”

Larry hung up, he would deal with this after a drink or ten.


	2. Making Stakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the support on this little piece of art! I'm so happy to be able to write here. I'm sulos, a human trashcan. Welcome!

Sal never said it would be easy, quite the opposite actually.  Sal warned the whole family that his scheme was gonna be near impossible, but worth it to pull off.  Yet here they sat, everyone had something to say about the situation at hand. 

Maple was sitting next to Chug on a torn up love seat, her hands wrapped around his arm and her forehead gathered in deep thought.  Chug was reassuring his wife with one hand and conducting his words with the other. Ashley was sprawled out on the carpet, her hands supporting her head.  Her green eyes were ablaze and her fingernails were tapping on the side of her face nervously. Sal was leaning back in his desk chair, sliding around on the hardwood floor.  A single finger rested over top an old flip phone in Sal’s lap.

“-so there is no point.  Larry is a man of pride and action!  He’s gonna turn his nose up at a deal, especially one that benefits us.  Sal, you can’t be serious about all this?” Chug asked, his face red.

“Serious as hell, Larry isn’t a total dumb ass.” Sal reassured for the fourth time in the past three hours.  “The Wellstone situation puts his operation in jeopardy too.”

Movement next to Chug caught Sal’s eye and he glanced just in time to see Maple open her mouth then close it.  Her hand raised to scratch at her head.

“What’s up, Maple?” Sal spoke up.

Maple shook her head and then motioned to the phone.

“Let’s just see if he calls back…. If he doesn’t I just wonder how we are going to deal with our injured.  Some of the bullet wounds coming to our little clinic are to complex for the small facilities. We nee-”

Maple was cut off.

Larry was calling back.  The room became heavy as Sal picked up the phone.

“I assume you had more to say, faggot?” Larry’s husky, deep voice piped up.

“That’s a rude way to say hello,” Sal said, trying to ignore the three pairs of eyes that were boring into his skull.

“If you ask me, we crossed fucking rude when you set my business on fire.”

“Touche, Johnson.  Speaking of business, would you be interested in a proposal?”

“Miss me with that gay shit, what the fuck.” Larry drunkenly murmured, making Sal bite back a laugh.

“I meant like an exchange or compromise, ya uneducated fuck,” Sal chided.

Silence.

Sal looked among his friends, his nerves finally beginning to get to him. The entire concept that Sal could pull this off became more and more ridiculous by the second.  Larry was a heart over head kinda guy at the end of the day. It didn’t help that his pride had taken a real blow at the docks today.

As Sal returned the stares and peered into each of his friend’s eyes, he could see the question behind them.  Sal wasn’t sure of how to answer. Perhaps a drunk Larry would be easier to handle, maybe not. Nothing was certain, except that everyone had sat in silence for what felt like forever.  The phone stayed quiet, finally Sal looked.

“Call Ended.”  Sal said, slouching back into his chair. The fresh bandages around his arms and legs felt a little lighter and at the same time burned into his skin a little more.  All that effort put into the docks and all he had to show for it were some nasty burns and a pile of loot. Not bad, but not what he wanted.

The others said nothing in the form of words.  Ashley sighed and gently placed a kiss on Sal’s head before exiting the apartment.  Chug and Maple looked at each other and half-assed a sad smile. With a pat on his shoulder from Maple and a wave from Chug, the 23 year old was left alone.  All of a sudden, Sal’s apartment felt ten times colder and one hundred times smaller. Sure, they had enough stolen goods to set up the small group for months and pay the lackeys, but it wasn’t going to be enough.

The Sally Face family had faced a recurring enemy over the past 4 months.  A new and upcoming gang called Devourers was cutting in on Sal’s gigs and stealing clients left and right.  Pretty soon, Sally Face would have to disband as a gang and lead “normal” lives. Hell, Ashley was already working a part time at a dog shelter and Chug talked like he was job hunting too.  Sal couldn’t stand it. He needed his family to stay in one piece. Losing any of them, the people that saved him, would tear him limb from limb.

Then came a shrill ringtone.

Sal shot up, nearly throwing his desk chair back.  He answered.

“Hello?”

“Still Sally Faggot, right?”

Sal took in a breath of hope.  Maybe he had a shot, he just had to play his cards right.   _ God, Larry, please be drunk out of your mind. _

“Yea.  I honestly want to work something with you.”

“Oh?” Larry's voice perked up.

“Look, I didn’t burn down your warehouse to be an ass, even if it did feel amazing to set shit on fire.  I had a reason.” Sal picked his words carefully; He wanted Larry to... _ tolerate _ ...him for once.

“You set it on fire because you wanted see shit burn?  Bitch, I have a whole desert property where you can burn whatever the fuck you want.  Stay away from my goddamn business.” Larry sounded legitimately frustrated.

“Hear me out, you sober enough for this?” Sal said, laying on the tension.

“If I was sober you wouldn’t be getting this much patience.  Fucking spit it out.”

“Fair enough.  So south of the city is the Wellstone district, yeah?”

“Wellstone is off limits man, all the gangs in the state know that.  Too many hospitals, firefighters and army based shit.”

“I know, I know, but someone has staked it.  A new gang, hadn’t even heard of them until they left a box with one of my employee’s heads in it at my doorstep.  The employee they sent me retired last month. He went civilian when he left.” Sal explained.

Larry whistled and said “Yo, that’s fucked up, but what does this have to do with me?”

“Think about it, how many of your men do you send to that area for care?  And not to mention a brand new gang taking whatever they want? Come on, Larry, you have to see the threat.”  Sal could hear the disinterest in Larry’s voice and he didn’t like it.

“I have your merch.” Sal blurted out, immediately feeling his gut beginning to churn.  His anxiety began to reel its head and Sal could tell Larry wasn't persuaded.

“Yeah!  You don’t say, diPsHIT!” Larry yelled into the phone.  He was ready to throw out the phone, but, he knew Sal was talking about something real.   _ This new gang... were they a danger? _  Oh, but he wanted to punch the shit out of this faggot that had the nerve to call him after everything he had done.

Larry took a deep breath.

_ I need to head out to the strip club _ , Larry thought as his pent up fury began to swirl.   _ Some down-time with a mouth full of tits would be awesome. _

“Do you want it back?”

Larry’s eyes widened,”What?”

“Do you want me to pay you back?  It wouldn’t be all at once, but if you help me wipe out the Devourers from Hopewell I could give you back every penny.”

“With interest?” Larry asked, suddenly feeling very sober.

“I don’t know about that...”

“With interest, I will play nice.  Real nice; consider me a temporary ally.  Without, I’ll just leave your territory alone til you are either wiped out or victorious and weak.”

“Low interest, but only if we make a legally binding contract.” Sal managed to say.  He didn’t like it, having to give up all that money, but he knew his family was close to breaking apart.  There was enough put away to be able to run the family at least for a little while. If it really got down to it, Sal could just work like Ash did.

“I will fucking give you my home address if you will come and make up a contract right now.  I want my money.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Sal scoffed.

“I’m home alone and you have my word I’m eager to get back what’s already mine.  Look, I’m drunk as shit, I can’t drive or else I would go to you.” Larry sounded tired and was that...?  Did Sal sense something else? No, couldn’t be. Larry could go out to the street corner and pick up anyone he wanted.  There wasn’t any room for concern!

“Your word?  That’s what you want me to go off of?”  _ He does sound hella drunk _ .  “...Fine, but I’m coming armed.” Sal said, trusting his instincts.

“So am I, cunt,” Larry laughed,”2554 Grove Still Rd..  Glass house with white gate out front, just drive in and walk in.”

The line dropped.  Larry tossed his phone and let his head hit the marble counter top. A part of Larry wanted to double-cross Sally Face, but his responsibility to his gang prevented him.  Lots of his men went to the Wellstone district specifically for the hospitals. If everything Sal said was true, these Devours were cocky. Larry couldn’t afford cocky.


	3. Midnight Triggers and Whiskey

Larry was not ready for the events he had set in motion.  How many more blows did his authority have to take before this kid was happy?  Sadistic tendencies had to be in Sal’s nature, because he seemed to enjoy stomping on Larry’s status.  Larry’s phone buzzed.

‘Faggot’ read across the top of Larry’s screen.  He couldn’t hold back the instinctual groan. This was looking to be a long night.

“What?!” Larry asked.

“Chill, I’m outside.”

“Well, come in the front.  It’s unlocked.” Larry swore that every little word rang in his ears.  Dazed and tired, Larry lifted his head up from the counter and peered out the window.  He could see flashing headlights outside.

“No, you come out,” Sal said,”Consider yourself lucky I’m this far up your driveway.”

“Come on, this is bullshit.” Larry said, tempted to hang up and let that be the end of it.  Sure, now Sal Larry’s address, but Johnson could buy another house on the other side of town.  “You said you would come over, stop being a pussy.”

“I’m being smart, not a pussy,” Sal retorted,”You come out, get in my car and we drive to a bar or hotel or something.”  

Larry dry heaved at the thought of a bar.  God, how much had he drank…? The whole bottle of whiskey.  Great.

“Not a bar.”

“Hotel, come on, bring a gun or whatever you want and let’s go.  I’m not gonna stick around long.” Sal was not asking, Larry could actually tell he was on edge.  In a haze, Larry managed to stand, wipe his face and pull out a cigarette. Outside the modern house and at the bottom of the driveway was a black Audi with the LED’s blinking off and on slowly.  A tingle of aggravation started in Larry’s stomach, but the alcohol quenched it for the time being. 

_ Not tonight _ , Larry promised himself,  _ I’m not gonna break his neck tonight. _

Larry reached to open the car door when the thing clicked and hissed.  Quiet Metallica filled the night air as the door opened to allow Larry in.

“Never seen an automatic door?  I find that hard to believe, now get in.” Sal was leaning over the steering wheel, peering up at Larry cautiously.  Their eyes met. Both of them froze for a minute.

This situation was fucking insane.  This morning Sal was sabotaging Larry’s shipping operation.  This morning Larry was fantasizing about various way to torture this man.  Now both of them were setting up to be alone and not kill each other. Sal yanked his head forward, blue locks whipping around to cover the side of his face.  Larry lit his cigarette and climbed in, staring at Sal through thinned eyes. The car door shut on its own and Sal was off.

“Which hotel?”

“Motel Juniper is down the street, you drunk.” Sal responded before he reached for the music volume and turned it down.  Larry nodded, his ears still ringing.

He had never seen Sally this close, but it wasn’t like he was anything new either. News reports, security cameras and close calls had given him pretty good pictures of what the young man looked like, but now Sal was right there. Everything looked different close up, from his white mask still ashy from that morning to his long teal hair that sat around his shoulders. Muscle wasn’t one of Sal’s highlights, in fact he looked kinda skinny and… generally smaller than Larry thought.

“How tall are you?” Larry didn’t mean to ask Sal anything on purpose.  Talking hadn’t even been something he wanted to do, but the question slipped out before Larry could stop it.  Now he had to roll with it.

“Um, why?”

“You’re tiny as shit,”

Sal winced, paused and glanced at Larry.  “...Sure, I'm smaller than you, an overgrown gorilla, but I’m fast and armed.”

Shit, Larry had forgotten his gun.

“Dammit.” Larry rubbed his temples and opened his window a tad wider.  He needed to sober up and he needed to do it now. Unarmed and strong meant nothing against smaller and armed.  Headache forming or not, Larry had to be on his toes.

“Let’s not do anything stupid, Johnson.” Sal said evenly, one hand resting lightly on his lap and inching closer to the gun at his hip.

“Don’t worry, Sally Face,” Larry rubbed his eyes,”I don’t plan on fucking around tonight.  Let's get to the hotel before I regret this to much.”

 

After four painful hours of back and forth, various insults and threats, the two men were exhausted with each other.  They did it, they had a temporary peace treaty and Sal was due to start paying from the turn of the year. Both of them were far too sober to stay in the same room for much longer so they split room service and packed up.  Maid service was gonna have a hell of a time cleaning up after them. Between the vomit coated toilet, cigarette ash covered counter and the food stained carpet, room 304 was gonna be a nightmare.

The two men were shuffling slowly towards the stairs, hugging their jackets to their bodies tightly.  The metal walkway under their feet groaned with every step. And with the steps of someone else. Sal couldn’t see anyone else on the walkway, but a chill ran through his spine.  He grabbed Larry’s sleeve and stopped.

“What?” Larry moaned.

“Wait,” Sal whispered.

“For what?”

Sal remained silent, although Larry couldn’t see his eyes past the mask the tall man could tell he wasn’t making eye contact.  Larry nudged the masked man and shrugged. He was completely spaced out, but Larry was to cold to care. The lobby would be warm, he could wait for the Sal there.

“Larry, don’t” Sal whispered, a uncertainty laced into his words.

“What the fuck, Sal?  What’s wrong? I’m going to the lobby-”

Before Larry could say anything else, Sal turned and darted back the opposite direction.  He went right past their room all the way til the end of the walkway and bent down in front of the door at the end.  Laughter and insults all wanted to pour out of Larry’s mouth at the same time, but Sal’s urgency… it was odd. Shaking his head and wearing an anxious smirk, Larry slowly approached Sal.  If he didn’t need the motherfucker to drive him home Larry would be in bed already. Speaking of home, Larry hoped to god nobody had shown up at the house looking for him, that would be a long story not worth explaining at 2 in the morning.

“Sal, dude, come on,” Larry said, becoming slightly aware of footsteps coming from the stairs on the other side of the motel.  He wasn’t worried, it was the middle of the night. Anyone that posed a threat to them in the day wouldn’t be a threat late at night in an isolated location like this.  It wouldn’t be the first unlucky vigilante that Larry ran into and beat into a pulp.

Sal quickly pulled out a lock-pick from his jacket pocket and clicked away at the janitor’s closet.

“I don’t think the maids here have anything worth stealing, crazy-ass.”

“The guys coming up the stairs are Devourers.” Sal said, his movements becoming frantic as the steps got louder.

“Oh really now?” Larry said.

“Look, I can’t explain,” Sal said, swinging open the closet in victory,”but unless you wanna be outnumbered and shot, get in the closet.”

Larry chuckled, this guy was more insane than he thought.  Blue eyes met brown and suddenly the air changed. This was serious.  Sal somehow knew those guys were Devourers and was offering Larry a safe haven.

“How do you kno-”

“Larry, trust me, get in now.”  Sal didn’t give the brunette a choice, yanking him toward the closet with what strength he had.  Larry didn’t budge. Sal sighed and shut himself in the closet. With a click, he had locked himself inside.

“Hey!”

Larry looked over his shoulder and saw a dozen bodies jogging their way up the walkway.

With no time to second guess himself, Larry dove over the railing from the third floor.  Bullets flew by him, some missing entirely, but one bullet managed a hit in his side. The fall from the third floor onto the roof of a car was not kind.  Pain spread like wild from from Larry’s right wrist to his shoulder. Shock took hold for a minute, immobilizing the big man. When his vision cleared, he saw the group running for him.  He tried to scramble to his feet, but he was too late. Another gunshot sounded and Larry let out a yell, his left leg completely giving out.

“So this is the famous Larry Johnson?  Heard about that little bonfire down at the docks this morning.  Such a loss, sad really.”

A stout man in a hoodie stepped forward, twirling a pistol in his hands.  Head to toe this man was covered in shadows. His voice was gruff, mocking and it grated on Larry’s nerves.

“Whaddya say?  That Sal boy to much for you to handle?”

“Fuck you,” Larry spat.

The man aimed his gun at Larry’s same leg that had given out on him and chuckled.

“Pardon?”

“I said,” Larry laced his voice with as much venom as he could,”Fuck…”  **Gasp** “You.”

Another gunshot rang out… and then another, then another.  Soon the night air was ridden with bullets. Then quiet. Larry forced his eyes open to see the hooded man in a pile at his feet.

“God, Larry,” Sal appeared like a proper savior.  “Come on, we got to go now. I’ll be shocked if the cops aren’t here in the next three minutes.”

He made the man roll over and sit up. Larry winced the whole time, but managed to carry his own weight, even so, Sal didn’t remove his arm from around Larry’s waist.  Somehow, they made it to the car. Larry had to practically throw himself into the passenger seat. Petal to the metal, the boys were out of there. Sirens were becoming audible just as they were getting out of sight from the hotel.

“Shit,” Sal muttered, saying a prayer for the engine as his foot pressed down on the gas.

After getting about twenty miles into the countryside, Sal pulled over.  He swapped his license plate for a random plate in his trunk and took a breath.

“What are we doing?” Larry asked, his hand tight on his side.  It had stopped bleeding, but his leg was still unattended too. Sal yanked some alcohol and gauze from his backseat and got out of the car.  He limped over to the passenger side and soaked the gauze in alcohol.

“Keeping you alive,” Sal said as he put the gauze against the open wound.  Larry winced as the blue-haired man wrapped the bandage tight.

“What about the bullet?”  Larry asked.

“We’ll deal with those at the safe house.  We are fifteen-minutes away, hang in there.  Are you gon-”

Sal stopped.   _ Not again. _

“Ah, shit,” he said, running over to the driver’s side. “Ah shit, shit, shit, shit.”

“Dude, chill,” Larry said, lightheaded and wincing with every breath.

“Can’t, cops,” Sal grunted.

“I don’t see an-”

Just as Larry was going to comment, an approaching car became visible in their rear view mirror.  Larry’s eyes grew wide. That car was going fast and they were parked. There was no way they could outrun them as quickly as they needed to, not with these wounds.  Larry's gaze darted from Sal to himself. The younger wasn’t visibly wounded… and he looked like a girl. Wait a fucking minute.

“Sal, wait.” Larry grabbed Sal’s hand right before he pushed the start button.

“Larry, I can’t explain, we have-”

“I know, do you trust me?” Larry took off his blood-soaked jacket, holding back tears the whole time.  “Give me your jacket.”

“...What?”

Larry didn’t waste any time and began to pull the coat off himself.  Sal eventually went along with him, beginning to see the plan form together.  This could work.

“The mask,” Larry said, motioning for the male to remove it.

Sal paused, his newly messed up hair cascading all over his face.  He placed a hand on the back of his head and Larry heard a snap.

“I’m not gonna remove it,” Sal said. “Just loosen.”

“Come on, the cop will take one loo-” Larry paused, noticing the shake in Sal’s hand. “Goddammit.”

Sal didn’t know what to do. Yeah, the mask was obvious, but what was underneath was even worse.  There was no way they would release the two of them after seeing Sal’s face. Especially if the cop thought they were a couple; Larry would probably be arrested for domestic violence if Sal showed his lumpy, mangled face.

“Goddamnit.” Larry said, falling back in his chair.

The car was only half a minute away.

“Change of plans, get in the back… NOW, go, go, go.” Sal instructed, guiding Larry behind him.

They both scrambled in the back, Sal crawling over top of Larry and ripping the young man’s shirt open.  He undid his own belt and jeans, peeking out the back of the car at the car that had pulled over behind them.  No headlights were on but Sal could make out the lights on the roof. Definitely cop.

Everything looked perfect for the cop.  He didn’t focus his flashlight at Sal who decided to feign as a female, covering a nonexistent pair of boobs. Conveniently out of breath, Larry pretended to hastily button up his jeans and apologized to the cop in Spanish.  The young cop asked the two a few questions about passing cars, the motel and if they heard anything that night. All the while he was fidgeting, cop or not, he was out of his comfort zone. After a minute or two more of questions and running the licenses plate, the cop bid them a good night.

After he left, both of the males took a deep, deep breath.  Sal crawled into the front seat and started the car once the policeman was out of sight.

“Get us to the goddamn safe-house, cunt,” Larry wheezed.

“Dude, relax,” Sal remarked, almost laughing in relief.  “That freaking cop was an idiot.”

“Don’t jinx it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a bit of a long one, but I had a lot of fun writing it! I apologize for any mistakes, I have to run to class, but I wanted to update just because I love how the story has molded since I first came up with the idea. I have another chapter already written, but I'm trying to get ahead a little because my new semester is starting! Thanks for reading and thank you for all the kudos! I was a little surprised to see how many people liked my story right off the bat, you guys are awesome!


	4. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never know what to write in these little memos, but I feel weird if I don't write anything. My boys are getting to chill out a little in this chapter, a good change in pace compared to the adrenaline show that was last chapter. Either way, I had fun writing this scene between them that you are about to see. Hope you guys like it too! Thank you to all the cool people that leave comments and kudos!

Larry didn’t care about having to lean on his ex-rival to stand up, his pride was nonexistent in the case of his entire body pulsing in pain. Starlight lit up the little shack that Sal had parked beside. Darkness seeped out of the windows and from under the door, swallowing up what little light it could. The building was far from professional, with way to many rusted nails sticking out from the walls. Jason would have felt perfectly at home here.

Together, the two men waddled their way inside, crashing on the couch that sat right next to the door. The inside was no better. Although there wasn’t a draft, it was a crude interior with as many nails poking out from the wall as on the outside. The safe-house consisted of three rooms, bathroom, bedroom and the living/kitchen space. Paint had faded on almost all the furniture and the color had been rubbed out of the rugs. Larry didn’t dare look through the open doorway into the bathroom. It reeked from here.

While Larry was scanning his surroundings, Sal was busy at the sink. He had an open first aid kit next to him on the counter and surgical tools under the hot water. Sal was juggling emotions, his brow was permanently tensed. An odd weight was pulling on Sal’s chest.a

“This is gonna hurt, Larry.” Sal warned as he approached with all his supplies.

“No shit, get it done.” Larry grunted.

“I gotta pick the bullets out.”

“...Hurry the fuck up.”

Seeing Larry in pain was not as much fun fun as Sal thought it would be. What was enjoyable was crashing on the sofa after Sal had patched the man up. At this point, Sal was done. He wasn’t in pain. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t tired. Sal was done. Adrenaline no longer drove Sal’s actions, all that was left was pure anxiety. Doubts popped up in Sal’s brain, how had the Devourers known where they were? He hadn’t even told Ashley before he left. It was just Sal and Larry…. Could Sal trust Larry?

“You’re a bad medic.” Larry said, pulling a ratty blanket off the back of the couch and over himself. The shack kept out the breeze, but not the cold.

“You’re welcome.”

“Did you get hit?”

“I’m not bleeding, just a bruise.” Sal lifted up his sleeve so the male next to him could see the purple covering his forearm.

“Aren’t you going to treat it?” Larry asked, wide-eyed.

“It’s a fucking bruise.” Sal breathed, his chest was tight, panic was seizing at him now that things had slowed down. God, he couldn’t do this right now, Sal didn’t want to have an attack in front of his rival. Ex-rival? Yeah, ex-rival.

“Come on man, if you aren’t gonna ice it, at least wrap it. Shit will take forever to heal if you don’t.” Larry sat up, wincing, and reached for the still open first aid kit that was strewn out on the floor.

“What do you care, go the fuck to sleep.”

“Give me your arm.” Larry ripped open a new pack of gauze with his teeth.

“No-”

“Did that sound like a fucking request?” Larry shuffled closer.

Sal froze and his eyes darted from Larry to his outstretched hand. What if he was trying to get a hold of Sal? Was he trying to feign trust so Sal would let his guard down? Shit, shit, shit, Sal’s heart thrashed against his rib-cage. He needed his Ativan right now, but the bottle was in the car.

“Earth to Sally, give me your arm.” Larry’s voice was lower this time, deeper.

Was Sal shaking? Sal might have been shaking.

“Dude, I’m in no condition to hurt you and we have a treaty saying I won’t. If you don’t want your armed wrapped I can’t fucking force you, but you’ll regret it later.”

“No, um-” Sal felt a small spark of bravery and stuck out his arm slowly,”just… yeah, it’s f-fine.”

Gauze in hand, Larry helped Sal take his arm out of his sleeve. As he wrapped Larry couldn’t help staring into the mask in curiosity. Two blue eyes stared back, a fire blazed in them that hypnotized Larry. As the blue-haired man had gotten rid of his shirt, Larry could see how far up the bruise went. It looked like he had landed on top of his arm. Ominous scars ran across Sal’s ribs, stomach and chest. They looked deliberate and planned. Like a macabre design meant to remind the viewer of something.

Larry didn’t want to know what those designs meant, but he knew that Sal couldn’t have made them on himself. They were to detailed and even.

What the fuck, Larry thought. Larry traced one of the scars along Sal’s arm that overlapped with the bruise. These cuts had been deep.

“Those are healed.” Sal said, voice even, but body still quivering.

Larry’s gaze shot up to meet Sal’s.

“They-Yeah, sorry.” Larry apologized and tied the gauze.

“They’re old, don’t worry about it. I don’t cut myself.”

“Sally, I’m not an idiot,” Larry said, resting his head on the back of the couch,”I can tell the difference between self-mutilation and… whatever that is.”

Sal was silent as he pulled his shirt back over his head.

“They are… odd.” Larry commented.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sal said. The young man turned his back to the older and curled up just as a wave of cold passed by. Moonlight shone in from the window, highlighting Sal’s backside to Larry. He looked like a kid all huddled up in a ball on the edge of the sofa with his jacket stretched over his legs. Larry ignored the clenching in his chest and chose to look away. The squirt could freeze for all he cared… right?

 

The next morning was filled with pained groans, low-raspy insults and a lot of cussing. Sal dropped Larry off at his driveway and drove himself promptly home. Ashley was waiting for Sal at the kitchen counter, helping herself to Sal’s scotch.

“Where have you been, baby blue?” Ashley asked, a drunken drawl to her words. “Did’ya party last night without me?”

“Not in the mood, Ash,” Sal said, throwing his keys on the counter and letting his cold, sore body lead him into his bedroom. A sad, tired moan left Sal’s throat as his skin hit the silky sheets.

“God, you look like shit,” Ash mused. Sal yanked off his shirt. “Holy shit, your arm.”

“I’ll tell you after I warm up and get a shower.”

“Jesus, Sal, what the heck happened?!”

“Did I stutter? Go get the others,” Sal said, forcing himself to start undressing and make his way to the shower,”have them here in an hour.”

 

Larry limped past his empty living room, past a desolate hallway of unoccupied bedrooms and up a cold, metal flight of stairs. He made it all the way to his bedroom before his phone rang. It was 11:37 a.m. Larry was supposed to be at the docks signing off on the removal of the rubble. Hands on his sides, Larry answered.

“Todd, come to me, bring the papers to me.”

“Got it, boss.”

“And a medic.”

“...Yes, boss?”

"Hurry up." Larry hung up and collapsed onto his bed.


	5. He Sees Red

If emotion could be represented by psychical force, the whole of Virginia would have gone up in an explosion. A lot of feelings were being felt all at once. Sal was ready to pass out, Larry was at the end of his rope and all the people between the two felt as though they were standing on edge.

“I can’t fucking believe it.” Ashley breathed, moving a lock of hair behind his mask.

“Well believe it or not, I’m meeting up with him day after tomorrow.”

“Alone?!” Chug exclaimed. His peanut butter and jelly sandwich momentarily put to the side, Chug began to rub the back of Maple’s hand. The couple were both in pajamas, Maple’s hair created a mane around her head and Chug’s sleep mask hung around his neck. Their eyes were wide open, no sign of drowsiness in either face.

“We were alone last night, no problem.” Sal murmured, picking at the tight bandages around his wrist. His burns, all but forgotten last night, were now on fire all over again.

“Yeah, we can see how well that went.” Maple said, motioning to Sal’s freshly wrapped limb.

“Oh, honey,” Sal said,”you should see mother-fucking Larry Johnson. His whole body is tore up. Bullet in his leg, in his chest, a bruise all on here-” Sal pointed to his side. “-and a big old black eye. He should have hauled ass when I told him too.”

“Wait, so he knows about your e-”

“He didn’t question it and I didn’t tell.” Sal interrupted Ashley’s question.

As far as Sal was concerned, Larry probably thought everything that Sal predicted were lucky guesses.  No need to push it, no need to worry, and besides, it wasn’t like the two of them would be alone in that kind of situation again.  If the Larry found out to much, he could start to work around Sal’s one leverage point.  Sal’s visions were the one thing keeping his gang ahead of the heat, he couldn’t afford any kind of vulnerability when it came to them.

 

“Have you thought about our next move?” Ashley asked, continuing to rub at Sal’s bare back.

The red, white indents that lined Sal’s body felt hot underneath Ash’s fingers. She took special care to sensually run her manicured nails up and down the man’s spine when she wasn’t massaging the muscles. Every scar deserved a kiss, a rub and another kiss. His pale skin made Ash’s olive skin look dark, but she loved his ghostly complexion. The mask, the pale skin, the scars, it all added up to create the man she had fallen for. Fallen so fucking hard. She wanted to fuck him just as much as she wanted to love him.

Ashley’s emerald eyes fell on the nape of Sal’s neck. She could see the irritation peeking out from underneath Sal’s mask. It was just a glimpse of the horrors underneath, but she could manage the thoughts as long as his mask was on. His real face was too much of a reminder. Ashley couldn’t bare to remember, no, she couldn’t go on if she had to look at his face everyday.

 _Is this what being cursed feels like?_ Ashley thought as she trailed a path of kisses along Sal’s shoulder. _To want something that you can never completely have?_

“I have an idea or two...remember the market incident? Mmm, gentle, Ash.”

“I am,” Ash whispered, continuing to scratch down his sides with just enough pressure to send that chill through his system. She wanted him, he needed her.

“The market incident, Ashley.” Sal breathed.

“Yes, product stolen, a few of loyal merchants found dead and a couple other lovely things, right?”

“Right, well, I say the Devourers still keep a scout in the market.”

“What makes you say this?” Ash asked, partly intrigued, partly trying to untie the muscles in his shoulders.

“When I look back on distribution sales in the area, we lost a lot of money to competition.” Sal said, rolling over on his back so Ash could work on his chest. Her hands slowed deliberately, but increased in pressure. Sal’s head lulled back, hitting a pillow.

“Bad sales day.”

“Correction, we lost so much money to competition in the area that it's obvious someone bought out the nearby shops. Normally we make a good buck at least on the stolen jewelry and clothes. October we barely ma-Ash you are being very distracting.” Sal sighed and gripped Ash’s hair in his hand.

She had managed to inch her plum lips lower and lower as she massaged and kissed. Her nails lightly dug into Sal’s chest and fell farther down.

“Go on.” Ash said, a tone in her voice that Sal recognized.

The man felt the desire begin to build and watched as Ash began to peck her way down to his waistband. She rested her mouth very gently against the growing bulge in Sal’s sweatpants and giggled at the hiss that slipped out of him. There were two things that Ash were good at: torture and _torture_.

“Shall I hit the lights or do I have to take your cock down my throat without a kiss good luck?” Ash teased, making sure her throat rested right against Sal’s ache.

Sal didn’t utter a word, instead he sat himself up against the headboard and pulled Ash closer to him. As he did, he yanked off the purple T-shirt she was wearing so he could get an unhindered feel for Ash’s rounded breast against his chest. Bra discarded, Ash pressed Sal’s hand to her nipple and grinned widely. She could see the blue eyes staring back at her, eating her up from the inside.

“Does that mean no good luck kiss? Come on, Sal~” Ashley ran her tongue along Sal’s adams apple. Sal reached behind his head while Ashley worked and undid the first latch.

“Alexa, hit the lights.”

**“No problem.”**

The room turned pitch black, giving Sal the nerve to remove his mask. His safety. Ashley could kiss him on the lips and do whatever she pleased with his tongue, but Sal always noticed one thing. She never touched his face with her hands.

No matter how good her pussy felt or how she held him down or how she dominated him, she never touched his face. It was like an itch that Sal couldn’t get scratched, one that he really wanted.

 

The next night came and Larry took careful precautions in arriving at the nightclub. It was small, one room bar with a stripper pole on one end and too many LED lamps everywhere else. Red was vomited all around the lounge area Larry and Todd were sitting in, red velvet couch and a ruby wallpaper to match. Todd shuffled.

“It’s midnight, boss.” Todd whispered. The only other person in ear-shot was the bartender, but it wasn’t mistrust that put Todd on edge. It was the tension. Larry was radiating disassociation, it was as if he was mentally projecting himself into another dimension. Anywhere other than where he was.

“He’ll be here.”

“And here he is.” Todd said as the door of the bar opened and shut. He wasn’t alone.

Clinging to his arm was a tall woman with the body of a goddess, but a pretty average face. Green eyes, long, brown hair and enough makeup to make her look her age. Shreds of fabric stretched over her frame, the purple nylon barely holding all her curves in. Masky stood a bit shorter than her and her stilettos. His leather jacket was open, revealing white, plain sweater underneath and a pair of navy skinny jeans to match. The two of them didn’t look like they belonged at a bar, they looked like they belonged in the background of a millionaire's party making out. A hooker and a rock star.

“You’re late.” Larry said.

“Like hell I am,” Sal said, sitting himself next to Larry on the long couch.

The blue-haired man took note of the big, bulking hoodie that Larry was wearing. No doubt to hide any evidence of the injuries he had acquired last night.

“We are both here, what’s your plan?” Larry asked. Todd lit a cigarette, glancing at Sal every chance he got.

“I am scouting out a couple leads, I just need your backing if anything backfires,” Sal said, calling for a drink over his shoulder.

“Which it won’t,” the woman said, staring daggers at Larry.

“We are here to play nice, Ashley.”

“It’d be nice to get this over with.” the brunette spat, her glare violently ripping away to watch the bartender pour some beer for Sal. She smiled at the man and ordered her own drink.

“You don’t have a plan of action?” Todd asked, speaking up through a cloud of smoke.

“I do, mind you,” Sal retorted,”I need to pinpoint a location first. The best location. I’m not going to blow up any old hospital or general store in hopes of knocking a couple of Devourer's guys in the process.”

“A bomb? Isn’t that kinda risky for such a populated area like Wellstone?” Larry asked.

“Trust me, if things go well no civilians will get in the crossfire. The whole purpose of pinpointing the gang's hubs is to limit damage to the area.” Sal sighed. “The last thing I want on my hands is a collapsed hospital.”

Todd took a long drag and opened his mouth, but stopped when he saw the look in his bosses eye. That was not a normal look.

“What if their hub is attached to a hospital? It’s the perfect cover and there are four in the district.”

“Already looked, it’s possible some lackey take up in St. Joseph’s parking lot, but lowlifes. Henchmen hanging out after work kind of deal.”

“How do you know they are henchmen?”

“Because important people don’t drive rusted 2000 Ford Focuses.”

“What about the other hospitals?”

“No gang related activity and no patients in or out with bullet wounds or drug withdrawals. Even the rehab was dry of drug addicts.”

“So you have nothing?” Larry said, running a hand through his hair.

Sal’s orbs met Larry’s. Again, Larry saw that life in his orbs, past the mask and the tough exterior, there was a passion behind those eyes. Sal definately had something up his sleeve and Larry wasn’t a trustworthy asset at this point.

At least not yet.

“Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?” Sal said.

“You’re a kid, I’m tryna make sure you have a grip on things before I start handing you guns and men.”

“A kid that has kicked your ass in the dirt multiple times.”

A stifled, quick giggle slipped past Ashley’s lips.

Larry took a sip of his beer and stood up, pulling his hoodie over his head.

“We’re done here, faggot,” Larry spat,”I want my payment on time and you can kiss my help goodbye, bitch-ass.”

Before Sal could respond, the sound of a gunshot rang out behind them.

All four adults turned in time to see the bartender collapse onto the lap of a very well dressed red-headed woman. With a push of her glittering pumps, the body plopped onto the floor at her feet. A Cheshire smile overtook her expression and she affectionately kissed the tiny pistol in her hand. The sequins on her wrap dress sparkled a bright green in contrast with the red lights of the bar.

“That whole thing about size is a lie,” she noted, spinning her pint-sized firearm in her hands,”it’s all about the performance.”

With that, she trained her gun on Larry who had forgotten about the gun in his pocket. In fact, three out of the four had forgotten that they were even armed. This woman had an overwhelming aura. For some reason, Todd, Larry, and Ashley all felt powerless in her presence.

“Mrs. Sanderson….” Sal muttered, a venom in his voice that actually made Larry jump.

“Hey there, doll,” the woman chirped, approaching the group,”I’d love to catch up, so why don’t you have your friend here sit down?”

Larry didn’t budge but instead looked to Sal, who nodded to the couch. Larry sat, confusion overtaking his anger.

“What the fuck.” he mumbled loud enough only for Sal.

“Don’t look into her eyes,” Sal whispered before Mrs. Sanderson took a seat across from them. She tucked some hair behind an ear and diamond earring the size of Sal’s hand.

“Now, let’s catch up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading! The kudos have been awesome and the comments uplifting, all that good shit. Sorry if updates are slow, but I do enjoy coming on here and getting to update and unfold the story just that little bit more. I have so many ideas but I don't want this story to end up being too long, I'm a fan of the short and sweet. However, I do want our boys to get closer before I even mention an ending so no worries there!  
> I'm one of those people that struggles A LOT with my writing and as much as I enjoy it, I can be very cruel to myself during the process. It's one reason it takes me so long to update because I just need to check it one more time, rewrite that one line or I get the urge to just scratch the whole thing. It's hard, and it takes a little longer, but hey, as Ernest Hemmingway said,"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit at a typewriter and bleed."


	6. I Swear I'm not an Arsonist

“You really have grown ya know, your mama would be in awe!”

“Oh, how quaint of you to say,” I said, making sure my voice dripped with every ounce of sarcasm that I could manage.

I had to think fast. Ash and I knew how to deny her little mental games, but Larry and his buddy were goners if we stayed here to long. The glint in her eyes told me she knew that I was aware of my time limit. I had my pistol but this was Sanderson, she would outdraw me in an instant for moving in the wrong direction.

“Glad you learned your manners, boy,” she chuckled,”but you haven’t introduced me to your friends here? Is that Ashley?! Good god, dear, you’re not dressed like you should be.”

“And you are?” Ash spat. I shoved my elbow at her ribs, an action that caught Larry’s attention. If he wasn’t on guard before, he was now.

“Now, now, I just came to chat you know.”

Sanderson holstered her gun, but I already knew it was just as deadly at her hip as it was in her hands.

“Okay then get talking.”

“Slow down there busy-body, let’s catch up. How’s your old man?”

“Alright.”

“As alright as a beheaded man can be right? Heard bout that, so sorry, dearie. I know you loved that cowar-”

“His name was Henry Fisher and you would be smart to keep his name out of your mouth.” I said, easing my body to slowly turn toward the door.

We would need a head start if things got hot because Sanderson wasn’t about to miss. I wasn’t about to get shot a second time in three days.

“Easy now, easy now, I’m just here for business. You been poking your nose around Wellstone and my superiors aren’t liking it. You’d do better to stick to underhanded payments and backstreet thievery. Wouldn’t want you dying before your prime, pretty thing.”

“Your superiors have no say in what I do.”

At that Mrs. Sanderson laughed, even clutched her sides dramatically to drive the point home.

“What do you want, Sanderson?” Ashley asked, staring at the woman’s dress just like I taught her. If she fell into Sanderson’s gaze I would have a rough time getting her out of it.

“Just what I said, for Salvador Fisher and Larry Johnson right here to make the wrong decision.” Mrs. Sanderson said, stepping over to stand behind me.

This was my chance, her and her “superiors” didn’t know what I could do and as much as I liked it that way, we all had to get out of here. She pressed her palms into my shoulders and began to massage. I relaxed my head and shoulders a little, despite the pain that shot through my arms. Sanderson fell for it and leaned down, about to whisper some nonsense into my ear when I grabbed her by the hair and yanked.

This bitch didn’t even have a chance to scream before Ashley kick-started for the door, going to propping it open. Todd bolted straight outside, while Larry joined me in restraining Sanderson. Larry disarmed her gun which miraculously hadn’t left her hip yet.

“Sal, let’s go!” Ashley chided from the door frame.

“I’m going to knock her out.” I said, focusing on the familiar ache forming behind my ears.

“Hit her over the head and get it over with then.” Larry yelled over Sanderson’s protests.

“Different kind of knockout,” I said, standing and preparing myself for what I was about to do. I had to know if Sanderson was full of crap or not.

 _Are things still running like back then? Are the same people in charge? How did they know I was even alive?_ I need answers and Sanderson’s mind should hold at least one of them.

“Sal,” Ashley was warning me, possibly begging me not to. She knew how wrong things could go so I couldn’t disregard her.

“Just a peek, Ash, take Johnson.”

It was to late, as soon as the words left my mouth, I felt the pounding on my skull. Sanderson screeched as I raised her head up to meet my gaze. And I. coulD se.e.

Ni.ht n--n, k111 eht shaep, red, red. red; b-77-r aim. _How is your son?_ nus gnirb nwad ta-eeeaaa no, p@in so wh1sk-y, qray 4 eht ki-

“-AL, SAL, COME ON, MAN!”

I came to, fully expecting to see Ashley there with a gun pointed to my head ready for the worst. My shock is understandable then when I saw Larry fucking Johnson shaking me awake and pulling me to the door. The flaming doorway. The club was on fire. More flames? Wher-

“Fisher, thank god, now move your ass.”

Suddenly I lost control of my movements, but I still managed to stay upright as Johnson dragged me outside. Out on the street were a couple firemen just unpacking their trucks and the other two of our group huddled up behind them. My head was ringing and I knew better than to open my mouth. All that would come out would be gibberish at this point. I needed to rest.

“Sal, oh my god.” Ash ran over.

She attempted to throw her arms around me, but just as I was nearing them, I felt my knees give out. That wasn’t it, I heard a light click right next to my temple and my heart dropped. My mask straps were so brittle that I could feel as one snapped. The prosthetic slipped and I felt a bit of chill wind on my forehead. Ashley stopped dead in her tracks, but I couldn’t reach up to hold the mask to my face. My arms didn’t feel like a part of me at the moment, I was powerless to let the prosthetic fall to the floor.

“What’s wrong with him?! Why won’t he answer us?” I couldn’t tell whose voice that was. I think I had exhausted myself.

“I- can’t until- or a cab.” _I just want to go home._

“I don’t know where the fucker lives!”

“Send hi- in We-”

“Fuck that, Wellstone is corrupted. It’s dangero-” _Why were all these voices so muffled except for this one.... Ashley?_

“C-p! Pu- right there-”

“Bett-” _Never mind. Everything was muffled now. Why am I so tired?_

_I think I’ll get some sleep._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

This fucking bugger was going to be the death of me, but I had a favor to repay. He could have offed me in that safe house the other night, could have made patching me up a hell of a lot more painful, but he didn’t. I guess the guy needed a favor this time and I figured his bimbo would sweep him away to home base for medical treatment, but when she said to put him in a cab I flipped my shit. I get that it would be safer to split up, but the cops weren’t even involved yet, they had a fair chance.

Fisher was a fucking bad ass, he didn’t need to be shoved into the back of a taxi. I don’t even know how he started the fire, but I know he did it. Something else was up, this kid could predict the future, knock people out without hitting them, and set fire to a bar without raising a finger. No wonder, as much as I hate to admit it, no wonder Sal has kept me on my toes for so long.

Speaking of keeping me on my toes, I hadn’t been able to leave him alone with the others yet. I wanted my guarantee of repayment more than I wanted him hurt and that deal compromised, but Todd and them weren’t one hundred percent on board yet. Long story short, they didn’t trust him.

“Hey.”

I looked up from my computer to see the midget stirring amongst the sheets. I’d worry about making contact with dealers later, my guest needed a proper welcome.

“You seem to have a real affinity with fire, you know that Fisher?”

“I swear I’m not an arsonist.”

I laughed,”He lied.”

Sal placed a hand on his chest in feigned hurt and muttered,”That hurts, Godzilla.”

Cold air settle across the room as I made my way to his bedside, phone in hand. I was shirtless, but not showing any skin at all. My whole torso had to be bandaged between the burns, bullet wounds and bruises. Sal wasn’t much better, my medic had to wrap both his thighs, and everything from the ribs to his chin.

“Also, why 'Fisher'?” he asked, sitting up without even a flinch.

Like I said, Sal Fisher is a bad-ass.

“I mean we have a business relationship now, better to keep it business instead of throwing insults all the time.” I said, physically restraining myself from making a hypocritical remark.

I expected something other than the next words out of his mouth.

“That’s a bunch of bull-crap and you are the last person I would expect that from. Just call me a shithead, it’s easier to work with.”

“I mean,” I glanced over Sal’s scars on his abdomen and noticed that they seemed a little more intricate than I remembered. Then again, last time I saw them it was pitch black aside from a little moonlight. “Whatever works I guess. Your phone is on the side table over there… your bimbo called.”

There was a silence for a moment and I thought that was that, but I was stopped from exiting the room by a stern voice.

“What happened last night?”

I looked Sal in the eyes and almost shrugged, but there was something about his face. His expressionless, blank face was somehow boring into my soul and I had to answer. To be honest, I don’t really know what happened, but I know damn well that I needed to sit down to relay the details. Otherwise, I’d end up putting another hole through the drywall.


	7. Don't Lie to my Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if ya'll wanna talk to me or anything like that you can find me on quotov at https://www.quotev.com/remdec
> 
> I'm on there often enough and I can even post an update schedule if it gets requested enough. I am never done with this story, it will get completed one way or another.
> 
> Either way, thanks for hanging in there and suffering through my terrible writing! Ya'll are awesome!

    The noon sun was beating into the room, highlighting all the things that Larry didn’t want to see right now.  His spammed phone, his overwhelmed desk, a pile of dirty laundry, but most painfully obvious was the small, scrawny horror-movie-reject that was sitting in his bed.  Sal’s facelessness never unnerved Larry, however the fact that Larry could see just how expressive Sal could be without a face did.

    Right now, Larry could see the straps on the sides tense as Sal’s brow probably furrowed underneath.  Especially that little piece that Larry had duct taped back together. Sal’s eyes were narrowed and unmoving from Larry’s gaze.  With his arms crossed loosely and back straight, Sal cleared his throat.

    After Sal asked about last night, Larry felt his mouth go dry.  Was he working with a superhero prodigy? Or a science experiment gone wrong?  He didn’t fucking know. All he knew was that the peace agreement had better be enough to keep them on the same side until Larry knew what he was dealing with.  When they did get back to being arch-rivals, he was going to have to be a little more careful with this boy. He was dangerous.

    “Are you going to stare all afternoon?  That’s rude,” Sal said, a hand raising to readjust his face.

    “Your mask doesn’t give me much to stare at.” Larry said dryly.

    “It’s a prosthetic.” Sal said, matching his tone.

     Larry raised an eyebrow at that.  His assumption had always been the mask was a shock factor to help the shortie play the part of a scary criminal or as a way to hide his identity.  Either way, prosthetics were used to replace body parts that went missing. Larry wasn’t sure what that meant about Sal’s face, but after last night he wondered if it didn’t mask a demon.

    “Okay, prosthetic, whatever,” Larry said,”Still not much to look at.”

    “Then why are you still staring?” Sal asked with a huff.  “I asked about last night, are you going to tell me? I can always ask Ashley.”

    Larry laughed at that,”Ash doesn’t know shit.”

    “She knows a lot more than you do.”

    “Yeah,” Larry said through a smirk,”I’m sure she does, but not about last night.  The bitch hardly stuck around once you decided to stick that psycho in a headlock-oh, god, what was her name?  Oh yeah, Sanderson. Care to tell me who that was?”

    “An old friend.” Sal said, his tone more flat than anything else.  “What ha-”

   “You mean old enemy, I’m guessing.”

    The two went back and forth for a while, not straight up arguing, but not being friendly either.  Anyone looking in would have thought they were at each other’s throats, but Sal and Larry were in a much different state of mind.  

    Finally, Larry took a breath, slammed a fist down on his night stand and began to recount the evening to Sal.  Sal nodded along, remembering most of what Larry was retelling. It was when Sal’s memory didn’t match up that the air became cold again.

    “What do you mean 20 minutes?!  I wasn’t ‘out of it’ for even one minute.”

    “Dude, you were utterly gone and unresponsive.  Sanderson was already on the ground from the instant you pulled her head up.  The fire didn’t start until a little before you woke up.”

    Larry continued.  As he was reaching the end, telling Sal about how he ended up at Larry’s house, Sal’s eyes seemed to lose their glimmer.  His pale hands went up to his prosthetic and pressed it firmly against his head.

    “Ashley just dipped, huh?”

    “Not really, she tried to call a cab, but the sirens were getting to close.”

    “That’s Ash, I suppose.” Sal commented, his hands still holding his face in place.  “Did it come off?”

     Larry’s brow furrowed and he took a long look into Sal’s eyes.  Sal wasn’t showing it, but Larry could hear the anxiety. A part of him reveled in it, the man that had single-handedly burned down all his assets was upset over something so small.  What did Larry care if he had seen his fucked up face for a split second? It wasn’t like it registered. To be honest, he couldn’t even remember anything about Sal’s actual face, he had been to focused on keeping it on.  Oh, prosthetic makes sense now.

    “Naw, you kinda half grabbed it, half punched yourself holding it in place.” Larry lied.  

    He figured the fact that he had seen something for just a millisecond didn’t hold any value for the moment.  For the moment.

     When Sal’s hands relaxed to his sides and his whole body heaved with a sigh, Larry almost regretted his answer.  Maybe his reaction to Larry seeing him would have been better, but it was too late now.

    “Good.” Sal said.  “And uh, thanks….”

     Sal looked around himself for a minute, seemingly scanning his environment.  This probably felt just as ridiculous to him as it did for Larry.

    “Yeah.” Larry said, returning to his desk.  “Once your feeling up to it, we can go over whatever you need that we didn’t get to last night.”

     Sal just nodded, again caressing the white plaster over his nose as delicately as if the piece was about to break off.  They didn’t know it, but at the same time, both Sal and Larry had the exact same thought.

_     This is going to be a weird partnership, but it might just work. _


End file.
